From the Vast

Chapter 21: Promise

*yaaaaaaaaawwwwn*

The quiet, high-pitched sound filled the clinic's main chamber as a tiny tree stump stretched beside the sleeping ghost. Sage reached out more and more of her spectral body from its wooden shell as she came to, looking around the dim space. Despite how dark it still was, she already felt more awake than not. And, as her cursory sweep of the room showed, she was probably the only one.

Her and Yaksha's was the last of a row of beds spanning the entire clinic, with a second one mirroring it in front of the opposite wall. Thankfully, only a few of them were occupied, and said occupants all looked firmly asleep. The thought still scared her a bit, but... it probably wouldn't hurt to take a closer look at them, right?

With as deep of a breath as her lung-less body could manage and Yaksha's protective presence on her mind, the Phantump slowly hovered towards the nearest occupied bed. It was tricky to make out most of its occupant from underneath the large blanket, but the striped tail with a red bulb at the end was a giveaway on its own. A giveaway Sage didn't remember enough to identify, making her fly closer to the yellow-black extremity to see if she could—

*zz-zap!*

The tiny discharge of static had the ghost dash behind the nearest bed for protection. It didn't hurt anywhere near as much as she thought it would; she couldn't even feel it after just a few moments. Even despite that, if she still had a heart, it would've been absolutely hammering in fear at the jolt and the dangers it could've implied.

At least they didn't wake up.

While Sage floated away from the Ampharos, she kept fighting with herself to turn around and go back to Yaksha's bed, to return to his dry, but earnest protection. She knew nothing bad would come to her there, not the sorts of things that could happen to her if she accidentally annoyed one of the sleeping patients, but...

But...

There was always the chance that she'd find out what she once was. Or, at least, remind herself of something important. Anything but this anxiety-inducing unknown—anything but this tattered recollection that inevitably ended in trauma.

With that tear-inducing reassurance, the Phantump kept going. She steadied her breathing once more while she hovered over to the next bed, its occupant much more visible. Yellow beak, presently wrapped in bandages, a bunch of white feathers covering its front and face, and reddish down elsewhere. She remembered seeing so many of them, always in very happy situations. Yeah. Though her mom kept telling her not to get too close, Sage had no idea why, especially since they brought berries or gifts every time—

The Delibird's frigid exhale answered the ghost's dilemma before she could even think through it any further. It felt like her face was burning; the frost covering its bottom rim stung; it all hurt so much. She immediately dashed back to her guardian ghost with a squeak of pain, avoiding holding him as tight as possible through the sheer force of will.

Instead, she tried lying down on the barebones mattress, hoping that whatever heat remained in it would help warm her face up. She froze as she heard shuffling from further in the room, flinching with every step coming her way. Eventually, a concerned-sounding question was delivered in birdsong. It didn't sound angry—the opposite, if anything—but Sage remained too afraid to look up at them even as the worst of the pain finally subsided.

It didn't hurt that bad in hindsight, but... it still hurt. And she didn't want to hurt.

After the most tensely awkward half minute or so of Sage's afterlife, the Delibird eventually took her lack of response as an answer. Unseen, they slowly backed off into their bed. Once she heard the thud of them lying back down, she kept checking if they were asleep every few moments, only daring to move again once they had been completely still for a while. This was all so... scary—so much more so than she would've thought. Especially with how homely this little settlement was otherwise.